Monthly Archives: July 2009

Egyptian Jazz

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The telephone is taped to my head in this picture. 

“Your patience is greatly appreciated…” I’m sitting here with the phone taped to my head, waiting for the claims assistant with the Colorado Division of Unemployment. It’s electrical tape, not duct tape, so I think it will come off fairly easily.

I’ve been out of work (“Your patience is greatly appreciated…”) for several weeks and decided that my applications to City Market, as well as other businesses, will never result in a job. For some reason, the family isn’t interested in staying home and eating thistles for the next 4 months, so the unemployment gig is the only way to avoid mutiny for now.

By the way, that City Market (“Your patience is greatly appreciated…”) application had a 100 question psychological profile on it. It’s degrading to have them ask the same question two different ways at seemingly unrelated places in the questionnaire. Do they really think that you won’t notice it? Question number 29, “Do you hate cats?”, and question number 62, “How likely are you to buy a birthday card for a cat?”, have nothing to do with overripe bananas, in my opinion. (“Your patience is greatly appreciated…”)

I like the Egyptian Jazz, and the Pink Panther-esque song makes me feel like they are hot on my trail, looking up facts, making phone calls, and super sleuthing their way through my case, even though I’m still on hold.

I’ve been on the (“Your patience is greatly appreciated…”) phone and computer off and on since Sunday evening, trying to report my job search history, and apply for unemployment benefits (read, “money”). This being Wednesday, I kicked my efforts into overdrive. I made my first call at 7:30 a.m.

It’s now 9:42 a.m. I’m still on hold, hence the tape. At 8:30 a.m., I started getting hypothermia from sitting still in a cold room. We are high in the Colorado Rockies, you know.

Did you know that the Egyptian Jazz repeats every 90 minutes?

I got cut off after being on hold for (“Your patience is greatly appreciated….”) 1 hour and 10 minutes, so this is my second session. In between the two sessions, I ran for a quick sip of water, like a marathon runner at an “aid station”. As I walked by my wife, I smiled weakly, and told her, “I’ve got the pioneer spirit, so I’ll get back on the phone and wait on hold.” I call, get a busy signal, hang up, and then lift the phone and hit “redial” about 150 times just so I can MAKE it to hold.

I can just imagine settlers with their wagons circled, and Pawnees shooting (“Your patience is greatly appreciated…) flaming arrows at them, hearing the Wagon Master yelling, “The Cavalry will be here in 120 minutes! Your patience is greatly appreciated!”

My forehead is starting to hurt from the tape, and my left ear feels like a manhole cover is laying on it. I need to tape the phone to my other ear. The Egyptian Jazz is starting to repeat every 5 minutes now.

The best advice I can give anyone who is about to become unemployed is to buy a speaker phone.

If National Health Care becomes a reality, then about 320 million Americans, plus illegals, will be on the phone trying to set up appointments, buy prescription drugs, resolve conflicts, and sign up for the system. I think in the future, we ALL are going to be hearing a lot of Egyptian Jazz.

The 1551 GluLam Jig

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 Yesterday, the Big Kahuna beam in our new house slid down into place and was nailed off. My son Caleb, daughter Heidi, and son Joshua, all helped put that beast into its pocket and nail it down. We lowered it gently down to its resting place using a HiLift jack from my Jeep, Festus. That GluLam beam is 6 3/4” x 24” x 28 feet long.

After we get done with a big milestone when building on our house, those present do a jig. We’ve done the First Floor Jig, Loft Jig, Stairsteps Jig, East Deck Jig, West Deck Jig, Quackaback Jig, and a host of other jigs. It’s all part of being part Irish, I guess. I’m half Irish, and half Swiss. I don’t know wether to fight, or just sit back and watch ’em go to it.

Anyway, Caleb and I nailed the beam off so it wouldn’t wobble, and we got up on top of it from opposite ends. After a while, we walked out to the middle of the ridgbeam, like Sir Robin Hood, and Friar Tuck , where we did the 1551 GluLam Jig. Why 1551? Caleb is 15 yrs. Old, and I am 51. What a cool age for me to be able to build my house with my son who is more of a man than a lot of guys I know who are twice his age.

1551 is a pretty perfect age combo for a father and son to build a chalet high in the mountains and do a jig on a ridge beam. Try some other combos and it might get a little scarey. Like 1661, 1771, or 1881. How about 1221? Now that freaks me out a bit.

So Caleb and I are doing the 1551 GluLam Jig on a beautiful sunny Colorado day, with high mountains surrounding us. Heidi is taking pictures, and so is a friend who just happened to stop by. (When you build a house like this one, people stop by all the time because its so cool and they want to see what new thing has happened since last time. Besides, my family has a lot of friends, and we all love each other. Loving people is one of the most incredible things we will experience here on earth.)

Caleb and I laugh about falling off of the ridge beam. “You only need enough space for the size of your footprint!” is Caleb’s favorite saying. At 6 ¾ inches wide, there isn’t even enough space for all of your footprint. Some of your toes are flapping in the breeze. It goes without saying that the 1551 GluLam Jig is more subdued than say, the Art Studio Jig, which went on so long that people were dropping out. Yep, that was an endurance contest.

Now that the roof is headed for being covered, we’ve got a lot of work to do before winter sets in. The house needs insulation, shingles, plumbing, electrical work, and drywall; we have to cut about 6 cords of firewood, and we need to find a new high groundclearance, fuel efficient, fourwheel drive, guided missle for our family car. I can’t wait to do the High Groundclearance Jig with my family on top of a new used Suburban…

I’m Too Tired, To Go To Bed

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Several years ago, my wife and I were watching a W.C. Fields movie. W.C. Was lying on the couch and his wife walked by. “Honey, it’s time to come to bed” she said. W.C. Answered in his raspy voice “I’m to tired to go to bed!”

In the last few days, that has been me. Of the 5 or 6 jobs I was “on call” for, I was suddenly immersed in heavy duty part time work. I shoveled gravel for a local guy for 5 and a half hours, only to come home, get a drink of water and go to another guy’s job site and shovel gravel. When I went to bed, my arms felt like they were going to fall off.

The next day, I went to a 3rd guy’s place of business, and delivered bed mattresses. ”Now this one here has a motor and metalwork in the foundation, so it’s pretty heavy,” was the admonition. Sure enough, he was right. I was encouraged by my my co-worker to be careful, because there was some very expensive artwork in the house which we wouldn’t want to take out with a bed mattress.

That reminds me of a painter’s story in Aspen: A painter spilled a bucket of paint on a very expensive rug while doing some touch up work in multi-million dollar house in an exclusive part of Aspen.. Knowing that the wife was at home, the painter did some quick thinking, and saved his skin. He grabbed the little house dog, and rolled the dog in the paint and began yelling “BAD FIFI! BAD DOG!” The wife came running to find that her little dog had knocked over the paint bucket, and was covered in paint. “Oh, my poor little Fifi!” She cried as she scooped up the scapegoat. She never questioned the painter, but instead thanked him for keeping the dog from running all over with paint on him.

After delivering the mattresses, I went home and fell into bed. I think I dreamed about my arms falling off.

Today, I went to another job site where I shoveled gravel, threw rocks, and hung on to a bucking mule for 6 hours. If I don’t fall face first into my soup tonight, it will be a miracle. Did I mention that I need to finish installing the big glulam beam on my house tonight? It’s true.

How You Become a Better Rifleman By Using Your Mouse

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It sounds a little crazy, but you can become a better shot while you are on the computer. And I’m not talking some stupid video game, either.  Here’s how:

As any good sniper knows, trigger control is one of those skills that needs to be developed. Try this.

1. Put you finger on the trigger EXACTLY THE SAME every single time. The pad (fingerprint area) is a good place to start.

2. Get your breathing slowed down. Watch how the target moves in the crosshairs as you breathe.

3. At the "bottom" of your exhale is when you shoot.

4. Squeeze, don’t pull the trigger. You’ve already taken up the slack in the trigger at this point, and you know how much harder you will squeeze before the thing lets ’em fly.

Now for the mouse:

Get your breathing down, take up the slack, and at the bottom of your breath, SQUEEZE the mouse, don’t click it. This can be especially effective when ordering United States Militia – Special Forces t-shirts from http://store.jerrybegly.com . Try squeezing one off on an Adult size XL, Hanes Beefy T 100% Cotton, Tan t-shirt.

If you click your mouse, instead of squeezing, you will probably hit to the right of your target, and end up ordering some cheap imitation John Wayne figurine that was made in China, and will end up being recalled. Happy shooting.

The Flag Laying By the Side of the Road

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Yesterday, I was driving my family down a beautiful, winding, state highway to Sunday morning services at Glenwood Springs Baptist church. While rounding a right hand curve I spotted an American flag crumpled up on the side of the road. I felt like someone had put a knife into my stomach. For one brief millisecond, the thought occurred to me to go on by without stopping. But just as quickly, I said to myself, "No, you’ve got to stop and pick it up."

I drove down the road a little farther, and pulled off on the left hand side at a small driveway/road. The walk back up the highway took a few minutes, and there was the ever present car to watch out for. I picked the flag up and headed back for our car. That’s when I wanted to cry.

 How many people had driven by that flag without stopping to pick it up? After all, this is a state highway, not a jeep trail.  To stop would certainly be inconvenient. For some people, it would mean that they were going to be late for their job, or recreating with someone. For others, it would mean that they were going to be late for church…

Why did I HAVE to stop?  Because that flag is not on par with a dirty sock that got tossed out of the window. That flag isn’t just a colorful piece of cloth that you can buy at Walmart, wear, and get rid of. That flag was the representation of everything good about the country I live in and am proud of. That flag has a history of brave and  righteous, men and women who have gotten me to where I am today. That flag stands in the world as THE symbol of liberty for all.

Have you ever seen our flag upside down as a symbol of distress? That means a lot to me.

Later, during our trip down the road, I asked my wife if she remembered the Ecology flag that we used to see in the 1970s. "Where is that flag,now?" I asked. I hope that the US flag doesn’t go the way of the Ecology flag. But we just got done celebrating Independence Day just a few short days ago.  There were lots of flags. Where are all of the patriots?